


The One Who Didn't Show

by dangerousdaydream



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday Dinner, Greg's POV, Greg's turning 50, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Unrequited Love, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousdaydream/pseuds/dangerousdaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was so busy mingling and making sure everything was going well that I almost didn't take note of your absence until we were ready to sit down and eat.</p><p>I really wish I hadn't realized you weren't there. That's when the night went downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Who Didn't Show

**Author's Note:**

> This one is not the same verse as my other two, and it was written while listening to Taylor Swift's "The Moment I Knew". I've been really sad today and I felt like writing unrequited love because I torture myself when I'm sad. I hope you like this, angst-ridden as it may be. Still not sure how I feel about the ending, but. Eh. I can't think of another way to do it.

Tonight was my fiftieth birthday party. Not a big deal, really, normally I wouldn't even /have/ a stupid party, but after what's happened to me this year, I felt that celebrating wasn't a horrible idea. So I invited five or six of my friends over for a small dinner at my flat and did the preparation for it by myself. Yes, I even did the cooking. Hey, I'm not completely hopeless in the kitchen, contrary to what my wife always told me.

But anyway. Let's not get into that. I know how you feel about her.

I've been excited for this for about a week now, as you know. Honestly, I'm not one for parties, as I said, especially not for my birthday of all things, but this year I felt I should. Needed to, in a way. That was what had me standing in front of a mirror in my bathroom at half six, running my hand through my damp hair and staring at a tanned face that looked forty, tops. Really, I can't believe I'm fifty already. Where did the time go?

There are a lot of things that come with turning fifty; things that I've never thought would bother me very much, but I'm coming to realize may bother me quite a bit. Things like doctor's visits, tests, the way your body seems to fall apart into itself... I'm not going to admit to anyone that I'm not as fit as I used to be, because I'm a Detective Inspector and I will not have someone looking down on me for my age, but the fact of the matter is that at some point in the next ten or twenty years, I'll probably have to step down. 

If I'm not killed on the job, that is. It's a distinct possibility; I've come close a few times. Another one of the many reasons why I had the stupid party. How I managed to make it to fifty in my line of work is beyond me. A fucking miracle, really.

It was seven when my first guests arrived -- Lance and Alec, two men who I have worked with for nearly a decade. Lance is a senior editor for Daily Mail and one of the greatest men I have ever met. You remember him, don't you? He's the one who wrote that piece about Sherlock in the paper, the one that made us both cry about a week after he... You know. Anyway. Alec works in forensics under Anderson and has the biggest heart. Reminds me of you in a way. The two met on a case about three years ago and fell hard and fast for each other. I'm happy for them, I really am.

Next to arrive was Sally, then Anderson shortly after. I guess they were trying to make it seem like they aren't having an affair. Or keep me in the dark, as if convinced I don't already know about them. I do, for the record. I've known for quite some time. Thing is, they're both great people and if they make each other happy, who am I to judge?

By that time, I was busy making sure the dinner was cooking properly, the drinks were out, and all of the other things that come with being the host of a party. Everyone was all dressed up, wearing nice shirts and slacks. Sally even wore a dress. I myself wore dark slacks and a navy blue shirt with the top two buttons undone. Not bad-looking for fifty, if I do say so. I was so busy mingling and making sure everything was going well that I almost didn't take note of your absence until we were ready to sit down and eat.

I really wish I hadn't realized you weren't there. That's when the night went downhill.

Lance already knew how I felt about you, so when I disappeared down the hall after dinner, he and Alec followed closely behind. I'd been glancing over at the door throughout the meal, just waiting for you to walk in with that smile of yours with an unnecessary gift under your arm and a thousand apologies for being late. But you never did, and I was so focused on hoping you would that I was only kind of paying attention to the conversations around me. After an hour of that, I started to feel this sinking hopelessness deep in my stomach and I excused myself.

Three hours had passed since the time I'd designated for the party to start, and I knew by then that you weren't coming. I remembered, as I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom for the second time that night, when you had told me you would be here. That you wouldn't miss my fiftieth for the world. And I believed you, never doubted you'd show for a second, which is probably why it took so long to realize you hadn't. Lance put a comforting hand on my shoulder as I tried so hard to keep it together and that look on his face fucking hurt. It actually /hurt/ to see someone look at me as sadly as he did, because that meant not only did I have a reason to feel the way I did, I must have looked a mess for that sparkle in his eye to have vanished.

"He said he'd be here," I mumbled sadly, hopelessly, hiding my face in my hands like a fucking schoolboy.

"I know, sweetie," Alec said from behind me, and suddenly there was another hand on my back.

It was like time stood still, like everything was moving in slow-motion, when I realized why you didn't come. It wasn't that you forgot or that you mistook the day or any of that. No, you didn't come because I'm not him, and it took /this/ for me to realize you'd never love me the way I love you. That you couldn't. I know you tried just like I did, but in the end it was him. It was always him. And I understand, I do, but the crushing sadness that came over me when I realized that I couldn't fight it anymore, couldn't hide from reality, overwhelmed me and made my heart /hurt/.

I knew early on that we were probably both incredibly broken over the loss and that was why it happened, why you and I seemed to work for a while. I knew the moment I kissed you and you didn't pull away, didn't try to fight me, barely fucking reacted at /all/ that you felt numb, but I was naive enough to believe that maybe together we could feel something again. And I started to. I fell for you like a sodding idiot and you didn't feel the same. I knew it, which is why I never told you. But every time we hooked up, every time I'd hold you on those nights when neither of us could sleep and you called me over, I felt more of myself love you until I just couldn't deny it anymore.

I was going to tell you tonight. I think you knew that and that's why you didn't show. I had this whole thing planned for how I'd tell you and. And you didn't come.

I needed you tonight, John. We've spent so much time mourning a loss that I thought maybe celebrating a life would... You know what, I don't know what I thought. Or why I even bothered, you're clearly still in love with Sherlock and that's fine. Your heart wants what your heart wants. I just wish it wanted me.

I started crying once I realized how fucking pathetic it was of me to think you could love me and it only got worse when I realized how much of myself I had given to you in the hopes that you'd... Well. I couldn't stop for a long time, and I think that at some point Alec went to tell the others I wasn't feeling well or something, because when I finally walked out of the bathroom nearly an hour later, it was just the three of us. They sang "Happy Birthday" to me and we cut the cake but I just didn't want it anymore. I felt miserable, and while I knew Lance and Alec were worried and didn't want to go, I just wanted to be alone. So I sent them away and promptly fell apart on my couch.

You called an hour ago. I didn't answer because I really didn't want to hear what you had to say, but I listened to the voicemail like a complete idiot and yep, I really shouldn't have, because the moment I heard your voice I couldn't stop crying. You apologized for not making it, didn't bother making an excuse. I guess I hoped you would, because I wanted hope. But you love Sherlock and I love you and it's just not going to work between us anymore. I got too close and you backed away.

I'm fifty now. Time to move on, yeah? Clearly relationships aren't a good idea for me. I'm insufferable. I have nothing to offer anymore.

I hope you end up happy one day. I really, really do. I wish it could be with me, but since it won't be, I guess... I guess this is goodbye.


End file.
